


Horror Movies Of An Internal Source

by Buckets_Of_Stars



Series: Peter Whump Dump [4]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Complete, Crying, Forth Prompt Is Complete, Gen, Kid Peter, Mama Bear Tony Stark, Nightmares, One-Shot, Peter Stark - Freeform, Precious Peter Parker, Prompt Fill, Psychological Drama, Scared Peter, Whump, Young Peter, dad tony, horror movies, peter whump, son peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 04:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars
Summary: 11 year old Peter really wants to watch the newest horror movie, but his Dad has some doubts. When a nightmare strikes after a particular gruesome movie, the young boy comes to realize that maybe Tony was right all along.





	Horror Movies Of An Internal Source

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wordscorrupt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordscorrupt/gifts).



> Forth One-Shot in the series yasssss (I am so proud of myself XD) I hope you all enjoy!:)
> 
> Dedicated to Wordscorrupt. I hope you like this story and thank you for leaving me this awesome Prompt!:D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

* * *

 

Peter is _not_ going to get scared, no matter what his Dad says.

  
The smell of buttery popcorn fills his nose as his father pads back into the dimly lit living room. Peter pulls his blanket higher up his chest, the chill of the room stinging his now exposed toes as Tony plops down on the couch beside him, a red bowl filled to the brim with the savory smelling snack. Taking a handful, the 11 year old rests snuggly against his Dad’s side as the genius flips on the T.V, the illumination casting long, blue tinged shadows along the far walls.

  
“If you start to get freaked out kiddie, just let me know and I will turn it off.” The elder Stark’s voice is muffled against his ear, the tone rumbling over the sound of Peter’s enthusiastic chewing.

  
He sounds like he is beginning to regret his decision to let Peter watch this movie, and the young Stark knows that his puppy dog eyes and persistent begging was the only thing changing the genius’s mind right now. He hopes it would stay that way.

  
Peter takes a second to swallow, curling his feet up tighter under the cotton blanket as the first preview begins to flash across the large screen. Summoning up all of the courage he has in his little heart, the boy puffs up his chest, ignoring the way the creepy music sends a sudden shiver up his spine.

  
“I’m 11 now Dad, I’ll be fine!” He says, ignoring the way his voice cracks as he grabs another handful of popcorn. “I’m not going to get scared of a stupid movie.”

  
Tony just sighs, his dark eyes searching his son’s illuminated face before he pulls him closer, tapping the PLAY button when it appears on the television. Peter shifts more fully against the Billionaire, his cheek resting almost directly above the faint glow of the Arc Reactor. His Dad drapes an arm across his shoulders, glancing at him almost warily as the movie begins.

  
And as the brutal carnage, the gore and the chilling screams of the murdered and tortured ring in the young boy’s ears, the television flashing red and white and the music reaching a screeching level, he finally begins to see why his Dad was so against letting him watch.

  
Peter just hopes he can hide his reaction from Tony, knowing that the genius is going to hold this over his head as long as he lives.

  
Sadly, the young Stark’s mind has other ideas.

 

* * *

 

The scream that gets lodged in Peter’s throat hurts almost as bad as the smack of his head against the floor.

  
His sheets are wrapped around his legs, the fabric having caught his lower body and leaves his dangling upside-down, the tremors running through his body making it near impossible for him to untangle himself. Small whimpers rise up unbidden from his throat, tears streaming from his wide eyes and running down his cheeks, getting caught in the dip of his shoulders and settling. The combination of sweat and tears makes his shudder, the glaring red glow of his alarm clock flickering along his cream walls.

  
Finally Peter frees himself, his legs falling the rest of the way and hitting the carpet with a thump that knocks the rest of the breath from his heaving lungs. Sobs now come full force and the small boy is rocked with the intensity of his fear, curling his legs against his chest and pressing his red face against his knees.

  
Image after image flickers behind his eyes. Bodies torn apart, chain saws and axes cutting into flesh and splitting through bones, the stomp of feet against a dark, damp forest floor, the smell of mildew and rotting leaves getting breathed in with each quick huff of air. A haunted voice, seeming to come from the very walls surrounding him, leaks through his own panicked cries, slithering into his ears and hissing his name.

  
_Peter. Peter. Peter. Peeeeettttteeeerrrrr. Peeeeetttttteeeerrrrr._

  
With a wet gasp, Peter lifts his head from his legs, gritting his teeth and darts his bloodshot eyes around the oppressing darkness surrounding him. The Batman poster, Bruce Wayne’s signature smirk resting beneath his black cowl, changes. The grin appears to grow, becoming corrupted and evil, leering over the 11 year old and making his heart stutter in his chest.

  
Jumping up, Peter runs across the room, his socked feet slapping against the floor and grabs onto his door handle. The metal is cool to the touch, the sensation prickling the young Stark’s skin and raising goosebumps along his arms. Looking back, the room starts to shrink, closing around him and pushing the air from his lungs. Jerking back around, Peter wrenches the door open, throwing himself out of the room and hitting the far wall, the wallpaper rough against his face.

  
The hallway is no better then his room, the sheer length of the hall emphasizing the blackness rolling off the walls. Peter shivers, curling his arms around himself and stands, tripping slightly as he shuts his door. The evil laughs don’t stop however, the boy’s imagination continuing to play sinister tricks on his terrified mind, and the young Stark sniffs. Keeping w shaking hand on the wall, Peter begins to stumble toward his Dad’s room, his near silent sobs jolting his small body with each step.

  
He suddenly don’t care about acting like a Big Boy. All he wants is for his Daddy to hold him and make all the scary monsters go away.

  
Rubbing his leaking nose with the back of his free hand, the boy finally makes it to Tony’s bedroom door, the lack of glow under the door signaling the man’s unawake state. Ignoring the jab of guilt that fizzes his stomach, Peter blinks new tears from his lashes, grabbing the genius’s door-handle and twisting. The squeak that follows startles the tween and he flinches, his cry of alarm leaving him without permission. Quickly slipping into the now open room, Peter sobs in relief at the lump he can now see burrowed into his father’s bed.

  
The man’s breathy snores fill up the room, the dim glare of his Arc Reactor getting covered by his sheets as he shifts. As quiet as he can, Peter makes his way over to the man’s side, whimpers slipping past his dry lips and his hands trembling. The cold sweat that slides down his temple is the only movement for s few seconds.

  
Then his hand touches his Dad’s arm.

  
The genius jerks up, his snore cutting off in a grunt as he raises his hand, palms out and metal slipping between his fingers. His eyes are blazing, hair flying and a snarl curling his lips as he frantically searches for an attacker. Peter freezes, only relaxing once Tony’s eyes land on him, the Billionaire lowing the now glowing weapon immediately and grabs his child in his arms.

  
“Peter!” Sitting up fully now, Tony runs his hands down his son’s arms, his dark eyes shining in the limited light. “Oh my god, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you right, kiddo?”

  
Peter shakes his head, words choked and fingers curling around his father’s night shirt as the man lifts him onto the bed.

  
“Da-Daddy, I’m scared!” He half sobs, half whimpers.

  
His father freezes at his words, his hands gripping his child’s trembling arms even tighter as he curls his body around him. His eyes continue to dart around the room, as though the source of his son’s fear would jump out of the inky shadows to drag him down. His lips curl at the thought, arm coming to rest instinctively around Peter as he shifts them around.

  
“What’s wrong baby? Do you feel ok— what the _hell_ happened to your head?!”

  
Cupping Peter face in his warm hands, Tony brushes his thumb across the now blue tinged bump, the 11 year old hissing at the sting the motion causes. Licking his lips, the tween leans into his father’s touch, feeling more stinging tears fill his eyes.

  
“I-I had a ba-bad dream, and fell o-out of bed.” His cheeks flame, the red tone to his skin making his whole face warm. “It was s-so scary, Dad!”

  
Brushing his son’s sweaty bangs from his forehead, Tony settles the young Stark more fully in his lap, pressing kisses against Peter’s head and temples every few seconds as the boy begins to calm down. His baby just nuzzles closer to him, his warm breath against the Arc Reactor causing a fuzzy feeling to settle deep in the Billionaire’s bones.

  
“Does this mean I get to say ‘I told you so’? Or do you want me to wait until tomorrow to rub it in?” Tony asks quietly after a little while, tone teasing.

  
Peter hiccups a laugh, hitting his Dad lightly in the arm when he leans back, his deep chuckle rattling the young boy’s body and making a small smile stretch his lips. The covers are warm as Tony pulls them up higher, wrapping his arms more fully around his child when he shivers again.

  
“Tomorrow, please.” Peter says, his voice slightly rough from his crying and his eyes beginning to droop shut. “You can yell at me all you want tomorrow, I promise.”

  
Tony laughs again, pressing his lips against Peter’s temple as his child sags against him even more. “I’m glad I have your permission then.”

  
A few beats of silence, then Tony lays back again, the thumping of his heart soothing under Peter’s ear as he curls up tighter against the man’s chest. The bad dreams are still a lingering thought, the barest wisps of fear still lingering in his bones and the young Stark breathes in deep, his father’s scent tickling his nose.

  
Giving a content sigh, Peter begins to slowly fall asleep, lulled by the continues beating of Tony’s heart and the smooth rumbling of his voice as he speaks.

  
“Sleep tight, kiddie. I’ll always protect you from the scary monsters.”

  
Letting out a huff of air, the Billionaire watches with love blooming in his heart as Peter begins to drool lightly, his hair ruffling under Tony’s chin as the genius kisses his head.

  
He stays up all night. Even when his eyes begin to burn and his alarm clock flashes 4:45 a.m. Even when Friday informs him that Peter is experiencing REM sleep and that his dreams appear to be pleasant.

 

Because Peter is worth every single sleepless minute that passes. Because his son’s peace of mind is the most important thing in the world and Tony would stay up for weeks if his baby needed him to.

  
And, finally, because Tony loves his child with every single fiber of his being. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone has a very happy holidays, a very merry Christmas and a great New Year!:D


End file.
